Square of Hope
by XRWolff
Summary: A vampire and a maiden, sans swooning. When all the defense you have is the clothing on your back, your wits, and a small patch of sunlight you must learn to make due.
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: Obviously, Vlad Dracula isn't mine. If he were I'd be locked away in the dark doing naughty things with him, not sharing him with you.  
  
Summary: A vampire and a maiden, sans swooning. When all the defense you have is the clothing on your back, your wits, and a small patch of sunlight you must learn to make due.  
  
The Story:  
  
  
  
Square of Hope  
  
By XRWolff  
  
The Salvation of Light  
  
Katrianne drew her legs closer to her chest and hung her head to stare at her jean clad knees. She had lost the nerve it took to look at her captor but she had to talk to him, the silence would drive her mad if she didn't. "Have I angered you by doing this?"  
  
"No, pet. I long ago learned to see only humor in minor inconveniences. You do realize that is all you've managed to do, right, sweetling?"  
  
Putting her cheek to her knees and drawing further into the small square patch of fading sunlight from the only open window, Katrianne sighed, "That's why I wanted to know. When the sun sets I don't want you mad at me."  
  
She could hear the rustling of his fine clothing as he shifted in his chair. It was unbearable to not see what he was doing but she couldn't risk looking at him again. Those damn all too intelligent eyes scared her. His very movements scared her. No man should be able to flow gracefully. Only fiction story people should really move like a jungle cat. But he did. Damn him, but he did.  
  
His voice was a soft purr, so soft she shouldn't be able to hear it at all. He must have moved near the bight yellow light of her spot on the floor. "Why don't you hold out your hand, pet? Let me show you that I'm not mad at you."  
  
"That would be.." She'd nearly said foolish but this whole situation was foolish. Frowning with thought she finally finished, " That would be giving up."  
  
From the corner of her eye Katrianne could see one long elegant finger of the man's hand tracing the shadowy outline of the sunlight where it touched the floor. "I understand, darling." He paused and queried kindly, "Are you hungry or thirsty? Would you like a pillow?"  
  
Slowly she let her eyes drift up from the thin finger to his pale-skinned wrist that was peeking out from under a pearly white shirt cuff with sparkling red cufflink. From there is was only a matter of gazing up the line of his perfectly fitted sleeve to the crisp collar to his smooth throat. Swallowing nervously to steel her nerves for the remainder of the sight journey, Katrianne gathered her waning courage then traced her eyes up the sharp cut of his jaw, slipped up high cheek bones, traveled back down arched eyebrows and finally rested on those damn unnerving jade green eyes. They were sparkling happily at her. They were mocking her.  
  
"Take that damn pillow and shove it where the sun was once able to shine." For good measure Katrianne laid back in the most intense part of her sunlight, drawing her legs up behind her. He called to her again but she simply ignored his words and that damn silky voice, staring out to the bright greens of the park through the window. It seemed so foreign, nearly like a picture of heaven in this dark closed in hell. The only inconsistency was the angelically perfect appearance of the man taunting her from his shadows.  
  
~ {@} ~ 


	2. The Assessment of Night

The Assessment of Night  
  
Katrianne shivered once. The sunlight she laid in was growing dimmer, less warm, less protecting. She shivered again even though the cold no longer bothered her. Once again she nestled her forehead on her tightly drawn up knees.  
  
"Sweetling." The verbal caress was followed by a very physical stroke to Katrianne's hair. God.time had run out. She whimpered softly.  
  
"Shh, my pet. Tomorrow the sun will rise again to make you feel safe. For now the moon is up and your time is mine. Come, sweetling, stand up for me."  
  
With a sigh of tempered surrender Katrianne rose up under the gentle tugging hands of her captor. She lifted her head proudly as well. What else could she do now?  
  
"That's it, pet. I want to see the beauty of your face." His deft fingertips traced Katrianne's forehead.her eyelids.her nose.her lips.her jaw.and finally, her throat. "Such a magnificent find. I could hardly believe my luck when your father offered you up."  
  
Seething with unredeemed rage Katrianne hissed, "Step-father!"  
  
Caressing her hair tenderly the man cooed, "Calm, darling. I know you're angry at having been deceived. I won't even claim it was best for you but it was best for me. I'm afraid that will be a major factor in your life from now on, pet." His touch lingered on a strand of hair draping along her throat of just a moment too long before he continued. "Now what would best please me is seeing you eat something, sweetling. You must stay healthy. Will you eat willingly for me?"  
  
With one last longing look out the darkened windows Katrianne bowed her head and walked to the softly lit table and it's awaiting meal. Physically she ate the delicious food silently but politely as the man watched and tried softly to draw her into several conversations. Mentally she was plotting the best ways to scrape the insufferably kind man's eyes out with the least amount of damage done to her carefully manicured nails and her now thoroughly rumpled clothing.  
  
Almost on cue the man suddenly grew silent and surveyed Katrianne's appearance. "That simply won't do, sweetling. Please stay here and I'll find you something fresh to wear. Then you can take a nice hot bath as well. Would you like that?"  
  
Glaring with a full measure of distain Katrianne spit out sarcastically, "I've been told that what I'd like is no longer relevant. I believe the actual question now is supposed to be, would you like that?"  
  
"Don't play bitter, Katrianne. It doesn't suit you and I won't tolerate it. Be polite, pet and I won't push you further than you can handle."  
  
Her skin is a palate for my pleasure yet it is no inanimate object. She resists me, fighting for what she once had but did not understand. If she did understand, she would know what she had was a cursed life. I mean only to bring her away from the hell she thought she knew, still thinks she understands and yearns for. Soon I will teach her to understand me. Already she is attuned to my desires, yet that too she does not quite realize. I want her to fight, I want her to show spirit, I want her to struggle against what she truly desires. It will make her surrender, no not surrender for she will never become some compliant concubine and for that reason I claim her for my own, it will be an opening of her mind and soul rather and only after the battle will it be a thing of beauty to behold. She will be taught to channel love, to reciprocate the tender blissful heat of passion I already admit to feeling for her. My Katrianne. I will own her heart and I'll be damned before I will betray her or give her up for the barest second. I won't sell her as her disgusting excuse for a step-father and guardian did for such a meager sum. His pet. Disgraced with such loathsome ease. He must remember to flay the epitome of bastardly greed when next the opportunity presented itself.  
  
For now he must be content to beautify his darling as best he could with the scarce bit of control she would permit him. Letting his imagination rove, guided by an appreciating eye flowing over her disparagingly rumpled appearance he conjured up mental images of how best to dress her. His mind caught and grew disgruntled upon the seemingly stereotypical "preppy" clothing she was currently adorned with. "Sweetling, did your step-father force you to wear that for me?"  
  
Katrianne looked up sharply. This man was even more dangerous than she first dared to fear. Already he was noticing what he should not be able to figure out. Narrowing her eyes slightly she carefully nodded yes to answer his question. Perhaps it would turn out to be a simple lucky guess. She wasn't optimistic enough to believe that but it was a stupidly comforting thought anyhow.  
  
"I thought as much. Do you mind jeweled colors terribly much or would you prefer to maintain simple black, my pet?" He hoped for the freedom to choose dark jeweled tones as well while adorning his precious. Her nearly flawless pale skin would look absolutely stunning draped in a rose scarlet and her eyes would simply sparkle if he chose to hang a matching emerald green over her lithe shoulders.  
  
Far too dangerous. Any forming thoughts of playing with this dark god shattered painfully. Katrianne couldn't hope to compete with someone who could so clearly read her preferences. She wondered how he would react to a few acts of respectful politeness from her. Might as well experiment to find out. "If it please you. I would be grateful if you would avoid pastels, sir. They disgust me."  
  
His eyes positively shined at her sweet tones. Well, that was one thing to be grateful for. He wasn't one of those who only desired what did not desire him. He wasn't after her simply because she resisted him. Most likely there would be no rape. The slight hope in her withered away and a short disparaging thought informed her that she was being far too optimistic for so early a point in this game.  
  
He allowed his voice to purr comfortingly for her as a reward for her moment of charming grace. "Very well, my dear. Finish your meal and we will see how our tastes compare when you are through." If she could deem to be courteous for him then he could only return the favor and allow her simple freedoms. Gods, he relished her.  
  
"Thank you." So he wasn't going to demand complete control over her. Best to thank him for the slight self-control. That really was comforting, nearly as comforting as the sweet drawling caress of his voice when he was pleased with her. He was so seductive. It would prove easy to become addicted to his pleasure if allowed time, she knew that already. When he was pleased he was so desirably tender and courteous. His pleasure meant her pleasure, he was the type that would be sure that remained true.  
  
"Ah, sweetling, how beautiful this will be between us." She didn't take his gift for granted. Ummm. Delightful, charming, saccharine woman. Soon she would realize the depth of his plans. Very soon indeed if she continued her glorious civility. How was he to deny her such freedoms when she was behaving so sweetly? Soon it would become obvious to her how much control she could have over herself and, he had to admit, himself as well if she only asked, when she finally realized how little he actually denied her.  
  
  
  
  
  
A/N: Plot suggestions welcome. 


	3. Toiletries

Disclaimers can be found earlier on.  
  
To add to the disclaimers: I refuse to be held responsible for any and all cardiac related injuries suffered upon discover of the fact that I've actually updated. *evil, smug grin*  
  
Toiletries  
  
To bathe was a glorious relief. Blistering hot water soothed the aches from her overly stressed muscles and made her feel clean and alive in a way that she'd thought would not return since her "selling." It also meant yet another moment of peace and solitude stolen from. him.  
  
She would have to remember to ask the man's name. Odd that such a thought hadn't occurred to her earlier. Foolish. Such meager slips might become dangerous. She'd always prided herself on being attentive. Her new situation should not be allowed to dictate great changes in her life and behaviorisms. At least they could not if she wished to remain even remotely in control of herself.  
  
A minute inspection of her hands showed that they'd begun to wrinkle and prune from excessive submergence in the water. Too much time spent in brooding and self-pity. That wouldn't do at all either. Especially if he took it upon himself to come in after her, or some other fool thing, if she dawdled for too long.  
  
Reluctantly slipping from the invigorating depths of the large tub, Katrianne shivered once then enfolded herself in the thick robe he'd left for her. The heavy fabric would keep her warm but she was in no way looking forward to standing in his fully clothed and commanding presence in such a vulnerable seeming state of near undress. Not as if she had any other choice, but this slight would not be forgotten easily.  
  
My pet is annoyed with me. I could see the cold fire of her near rage the moment she stepped through the door. It has added a fine shine to her eyes, which give nary a waver as they meet my own gaze.  
  
I wonder, should I tell her how absolutely regal she looks wearing her anger so openly?  
  
No. That would further enrage her and these Americans can become highly volatile when so provoked. It wouldn't serve my purposes at all.  
  
My own fault for the chilly silence surrounding us as I lead her towards the awaiting closet. If I'd had my mind on more important tasks than stroking my own ego at finding and gaining such a prize, I would have thought to let her choose and take the clothing to the bathroom with her.  
  
I must be getting dense in my old age.  
  
Is the man stupid? Or merely blind and inconsiderate? I've let my annoyance and distain for this situation have free reign of my facial expression.  
  
Yet, still he stares.  
  
Nearly as if enchanted. If I were slightly less proud and even remotely more docile, I'd almost take his never-ending inspection as a immense compliment. But, for the moment, I am much more annoyed than apt to take pleasure from his speechless admiration. "Perhaps instead of treating me like a subject of continual observation you could extend me a few common courtesies. For example, the knowledge of your name, and my promised clothing." Take that bane of my continued existence.  
  
Yes, I am most decidedly becoming dense.  
  
For an encore, perhaps I should see if she can be persuaded to change before me. That should make her blood boil and her thoughts to churn against my favor.  
  
And yet still, I cannot take my eyes from her. The fire of her gaze is so mesmerizing.  
  
Manners, old fool!  
  
"I really must apologize, sweetling. But your eyes."  
  
"What of them?"  
  
"They sparkle quite alluringly in the light, Katrianne. I find it hard to turn away."  
  
Good lord! Is he real? Or some dream sucked directly out of some corny romance novel to punish the bad karma I must have to deserve this?  
  
"All well and fine, but my clothing if you please!"  
  
I gesture at the meager selection of finery laying across the dressing table. Suddenly I care not what she wears tonight. Anything, when coupled with those intense eyes, will be breathtaking.  
  
"Do as you like, lady. I defer to your taste."  
  
Now, leave before you loose all hope with her. Give her a bit of privacy. It will be a soothing balm for her raised ire. Then there will be more time for further interaction later. Once she is dressed.  
  
Well, that went remarkably well. Nearly frighteningly easy. Who would have thought that a little tongue lashing would get me what I wanted from such a man so obviously used to being in command?  
  
Whatever. Dress now. Try to solve puzzles later.  
  
Oh! That the most wonderfully soft blouse I've ever touched. Bet it's warm too.  
  
A/N: A few strategic emails have brought me back to Fanfiction.net for a short interlude. I'm afraid I can't guarantee my continued presence. I really do despise any and all forms of censorship. Especially when enforce on creative aspects such as writing. 


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